Crossing Lines
by Snafu1000
Summary: Because you do what you need to do to protect family. In between the scenes of 'The Beast In Me'. One-shot.


_One-shots are odd things. On the one hand, they do distract me from the ongoing projects, but on the other, being able to actually complete **something** when you have stories that are stretching into forever is both satisfying and energizing, as well as letting me explore ideas that don't fit into current plotlines, so I tend to give in. The trick is in **keeping** them one-shots, so I'm careful about which plot-bunnies I capture._

_This isn't the lighter R&I piece that I mentioned before. This one had been simmering for quite a while, but came to a rolling boil while I was writing the second chapter of JJ&E. It's my own take on what really happened behind the scenes of 'The Beast In Me', and can pretty much be considered head-canon for any R&I I write that takes place subsequent to that episode._

_Standard disclaimer applies: Rizzoli & Isles belong to Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro and TNT._

* * *

Jane leaned against the wall of the elevator as the doors slid closed, staring at the phone in her hand. One call. Two words. That's all it would take. Maura would be safe.

_But she told you not to do it._

Another couple of days, and they might have what they needed to arrest Tommy O'Rourke for Colin Doyle's murder. He wouldn't be able to touch Maura from a prison cell.

_But he could order a hit. Happens all the time. And that voiceprint probably isn't even enough for an arrest, much less a conviction. And to guys like that, doing time is a badge of honor. It's not gonna deter anyone from going after Doyle's other kid._

Her hand closed tight around the phone, as though if she squeezed it hard enough, it would provide her with an answer. She was a cop, and she might have bent the rules a time or two, but she had never broken them. She had seen criminals walk due to lack of evidence: murderers, rapists, child molesters. Always - _always_ - she sucked it up, used her frustration as fuel for doubling down on the investigation, getting the evidence they needed to finish the job. Most of the time, it had worked.

_But not always. And if you don't do it this time..._

Even if she did pull together enough to put O'Rourke away, there would be more where he came from. She couldn't guarantee Maura's safety.

Patrick Doyle could. He spoke the only language that animals like Tommy O'Rourke understood.

Fear.

Jane had had enough fear in the past couple of days to last the rest of her lifetime. The hours between the time Maura had gone missing until she had called had been the longest in Jane's life, the fear tearing at her guts like a wild animal. The memory of Charles Hoyt didn't even rate as a blip on the scale beside it. Hoyt had scared her because he had made her powerless, but ultimately, it had been her own ass on the line there. This was _Maura_.

Maura was the kindest, gentlest person that Jane knew. She didn't deserve to have Paddy Doyle for a sperm donor, and she damn sure hadn't deserved to get dragged into the cesspool of his world, but the bastard had done it anyway. Kidnapping his own fucking daughter just to say hi. Making it plain to anyone watching that he cared about her. Turning her into a fucking target for anyone out to get to him.

"_Whatever you want, I can get it."_

She'd meant every word. With no idea who had taken her best friend, what they might plan on doing to her, she'd been ready to do whatever it took to get her back safe. If it had meant breaking the law, she'd have done it and done the time without blinking, and if she had been told to kill Tommy O'Rourke...

_Yeah, you'd have done it. So why the hell are you waffling over a damn phone call?_

_Because she told you not to._

_"This is not who I am. It's not who you are."_

_What if it's exactly who I am, Maura?_

She still remained unsure exactly what she had done to earn the almost childlike faith that Maura had in her, but it meant more to her than she would ever have believed possible. She had made her offer, and that had been enough for Maura Isles. She had given Jane the phone, trusting that she would do just what she had said she would do: take the phone to the lab, see if they could trace anything on it.

And _not_ make the phone call that would keep her safe, keep her alive.

What would happen if she called and Maura found out?

What would happen if she _didn't_ call, and Maura wound up dead?

Lose Maura's friendship and trust, or lose her best friend completely?

Why was it even a question, damn it?

In the end, she took the phone to the lab, left it there to be processed. But first, she pulled up the single phone number that was programmed in and committed it to memory.

* * *

Maura wanted to go to the Robber after work, which meant that they all went. If she was aware that she had acquired a security detail consisting of three Boston Homicide detectives, she gave no indication of it, and Jane, Frost and Korsak didn't enlighten her, sipping at their beers rather than downing them and ordering more, sitting so that between the three of them, they had eyes on every point within the bar. Jane sat between Maura and the window; Frost sat on the outside of he and Korsak's side of the booth, his eyes flicking briefly to the door each time it opened.

Maura got up to go to the bathroom. Jane moved to follow her, was stopped by a look from Frost, the faintest shake of his head. She glared at him; the women's restroom was maybe twenty feet from the back door, but his brown eyes met her glower with a gravity that stilled any vocal protest she might have made. Maura didn't notice.

Three pairs of eyes followed the M.E. until the door to the restroom swung closed behind her. Jane turned her gaze back to Korsak and Frost, though not so far that the bathroom door was out of her peripheral vision, fighting the clutch of dread in her chest, the irrational certainty that letting Maura out of her sight would result in her getting taken again...or worse.

"What is it?" she asked, her ears straining to catch any muffled scream or sound of a struggle from the direction of the bathroom, legs tensed, ready to propel her from the booth at a second's notice.

In lieu of a reply, Korsak reached into a pocket and pulled out something that he slid across the table to her. "I bought it this afternoon," he said in a low voice that was meant to go no further than her ears. "Frost paid for it."

She stared down at the disposable cell phone, still in its package, then back up, meeting the eyes of her partners, both of them calm and resolved. She'd told them about the cell phone, about taking it to the lab, but not about her internal struggle, or what she and Maura had spoken of.

They knew anyway. They knew her.

"She told me not to," she whispered hoarsely, not touching the phone. "I offered before, but she said no."

Korsak nodded, not seeming surprised. "We figured as much. Just let me know the number and I'll -"

"No." She snatched up the phone, stuffed it deep into her jacket pocket. "No, I'll do it. This is mine." No way could she let them shoulder all the risk, all the blame. "This is mine. I'll do it."

Vince Korsak was as straight-arrow as they came. Barry Frost was a damn Boy Scout. The realization that they would move forward without her evaporated the lingering doubt that she might be overreacting, jumping at shadows. The threat was real and imminent. Maura's life was in danger; the most sure way to protect her required crossing a line that Jane had never thought she would ever even approach.

Korsak and Frost had just dealt themselves in without question or hesitation. Barry had paid for the phone - with cash, undoubtedly - and Vince had purchased it. All that remained was for her to use it. If the wheels came off, all three of them would go down - and probably to prison - together.

Christ, she loved them both.

Maura was coming back; Jane made room for her, and small talk was made for the next hour. Nothing else about the phone was said between the detectives. Nothing else would ever be said. Nothing else needed to be said.

Later, alone in her apartment, she pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves, pulled out the cell phone and opened the package. Sat on her sofa staring at it for ten minutes, her free hand absently scratching Jo Friday's ears. She activated the phone, dialed the number from memory.

After three rings, someone picked up and waited in silence on the other end. She spoke. Two words. A few more seconds of silence, then the call was cut off at the other end.

She got up from the sofa, walking into the kitchen as she flipped the phone over and pulled out the memory chip, then crushed it between the heel of her boot and the kitchen tiles. She took Jo Friday for a nice, long walk, disposing of the phone, the package and the shattered memory chips in different trash bins well away from each other. Halfway home, her phone vibrated with a text from Maura.

_- Can you come over?_

She called back immediately, nerves on full alert. "What's wrong? Isn't the detail there?" There was supposed to be a car with two uniforms parked outside her place, and Jane would have someone's head if they'd been pulled off.

"No...I mean yes, they're here," Maura said, sounding apologetic. "I just took them coffee. I just...I feel safer with you here."

"On my way." She probably wouldn't be sleeping, anyway. Might as well do the bodyguard schtick. She hung up, pocketed her phone and tugged on Jo's leash. "C'mon, let's go visit Bass."

She went home long enough to pack overnight bags for she and the dog, then headed to Maura's, pausing to check with the detail, confirming that there had been no activity. The Medical Examiner was sitting on her couch, her eyes red and swollen. "Jane, I'm so sorry to drag you out."

"Because I have _such_ a busy social calender?" She gave the words the full Rizzoli sarcasm treatment and was rewarded with a small, shaky smile. She released Jo from the leash, set down her bag and dropped onto the couch beside her friend. "C'mere."

She held out her arms and Maura came to her immediately, holding on tight and burying her face against the detective's shoulder. "Hey." She leaned back, drawing Maura with her, startled by the tremors that shook the slender frame. "It's all right."

"No, it's not." Maura shook her head, her words muffled by Jane's shirt, the tears falling in earnest now. "I'm so scared, Jane."

"You don't have to be." She stroked the light brown hair, trying to find a way to reassure her without telling her everything. "We won't let anything happen to you. We take care of our own."

Maura was silent for a long moment, the trembling beginning to still. "What would you do to protect your family?" she asked softly.

"Anything." She didn't have to think about the answer, and she couldn't lie about it. "So I can't really fault Doyle for feeling the same."

"But what_ is_ family?" Maura drew back, hazel eyes watching her solemnly with the guileless candor that had been disarming her since the first time they'd met. "Patrick Doyle fathered me, and he's been watching me all my life, but he doesn't know me, not really. My parents adopted me, but they were gone so much, they weren't at half the events that Doyle has pictures of. What does that mean?"

"I don't know," Jane admitted. For her money, if Doyle had really loved his daughter, he'd have stayed the hell away from her, instead of trying to make her an accessory to murder. "I remember reading once that you get two families: the one you're born with and the one you choose."

A faint line of puzzlement appeared on Maura's brow. "But I didn't choose my parents, they chose -"

"Adoption is part of the 'born with'," Jane corrected her gently. She took things so literally. "The one you choose...it's not just who you marry and their family. It's friends, too. Not all of them, maybe, or even most of them." She thought of Vince and Barry, both of them ready to put their careers on the line, risk prison. Not just for Maura. For Jane. Because they knew that she'd be stepping into the breach, and they wouldn't let her take that step alone. "Just the right ones."

"Like you." Maura dropped her head back to Jane's shoulder, the tension seeping from her. "You're my family."

How the hell did she_ do_ that? All the things that were understood but unspoken between she, Korsak and Frost...hell, even she and Frankie, unless it was under extreme circumstances, like their grandmother's funeral, or his new girlfriend turning out to be Hoyt's secret apprentice and him shooting her to save both their asses (yeah, that particular clusterfuck had been good for a couple of exchanged I-love-you's in between their mother alternately scolding them both and bawling her eyes out). The emotional, touchy-feely stuff that cops did _not _talk about, Maura blurted out with the artless honesty of a child. There were times when Jane felt like she was teaching an alien visitor how to be human, but as awkward and occasionally exasperating as her conversational gaffes could be, the detective had found herself reluctant to correct her friend out of the habit, reluctant to kill the innocence that underlay it. Which was another reason she would cut her tongue out before telling Maura about the phone call she had made earlier tonight.

"Yeah," she said softly. "You're my family, too." Probably the sanest part, come to think of it. She could feel the other woman relaxing into her, calmed by the contact, the conversation. Her own stress levels had dropped measurably since coming through the door, though finding no Irish mobsters in residence likely accounted for no small amount of that. "Think you could sleep now?"

"Mmm-hmm." The murmured affirmative was accompanied by a nod and interrupted by a yawn.

"C'mon, then." She pushed herself upright, drawing Maura along with her. "Let's get you to bed."

* * *

Less than twelve hours later saw the four of them walking together down the ramp into a basement garage in the warehouse district, an efficiency that had Jane reflecting sardonically that Missing Persons should consider subcontracting location services out to the Irish mafia. If Maura noticed that the Homicide detectives had positioned themselves so as to keep her between them, she did not mention it. Uniforms had already secured the scene, and evidence technicians had begun processing it, but even so, Jane increased her pace ever so slightly, pulling ahead of the M.E., eyes shifting quickly from one side to another. Only once she had assured herself that no ambush was imminent did she allow her gaze to linger on the corpse in the chair, waiting for the guilt that did not come.

"Tommy O'Rourke." Korsak's voice was dispassionate, confirming what they already knew. The beefy neck and face were identical to the mug shots and surveillance photos of the mob enforcer, but the green eyes no longer had the cold, thousand-yard stare of a professional killer. They were open and unseeing, hazed in death. "Some would say it's a fitting end for a killer." He'd spoken of Patrick Doyle with a grudging respect that hadn't been present when he'd briefed them on O'Rourke's crimes.

Jane watched in silence as Maura stepped forward, her gloved hand withdrawing the icepick from O'Rourke's chest and depositing it in an evidence bag held by a tech, waiting until he had moved away before lifting the bloody photo that it had been pinning to the body.

"It's me," she said softly, staring down at the sleeping infant cradled in the arms of a mustached man who bent his head over her protectively. "As a baby."

"With Doyle," Jane confirmed. It was official. She was now an accessory to premeditated murder, and still there was no guilt.

Hazel eyes lifted to hers, the scary-sharp mind behind them working quickly, reaching logical conclusions that Jane did _not_ want her coming to. "You tipped him off." It was not a question, but neither did it sound like an accusation. The detective could not read the expression on Maura's face, which was rare.

"Not me. You said not to." The lie rolled smoothly from her tongue, her eyes holding those of her friend without flinching. Not to save her friendship; she had already accepted that bleak possibility when she placed the call, counted it as an acceptable risk for saving her life. She lied to protect Maura. Her friend was already going to be torn up with guilt at being part of the reason that this piece of shit was dead, but she could still chalk it up as primarily revenge for Colin's murder. Knowing that Jane had involved herself would change that, drop the weight of perceived responsibility directly onto her shoulders.

Maura studied her, expression still unreadable, and Jane felt the first stirring of real fear. Maura was innocent, but she was far from stupid. _Just this once, Maur...don't say anything. Please. Don't push._ She turned to Korsak, unable to meet her friend's eyes any longer, knowing that she was putting it together. "I think the message is pretty clear, though." Trying to explain without saying it outright.

Still silent, the M.E shifted her eyes shifted to Frost, questioning, seeking answers. "Yeah," he agreed. "Don't mess with my family." There was a hint of a smile on his lips, but his brown eyes were steely, and the words rang out like a challenge to anyone who might be listening in.

"You do what you need to do to protect family." Korsak's words were matter-of-fact, his features calm, but Jane felt the panic start to grow as Maura's eyes shifted between them. Shit, they'd just all but confessed, and Jane prayed that Maura would either miss that completely or understand it for what it was, what it meant.

_They're your family too, Maur. Yours and mine._

The penetrating stare sharpened briefly into comprehension, and the detective felt her heart sink, but Maura remained silent, her eyes softening into a gentle, puzzled sort of wonder, and Jane felt the panic begin to settle. Maura swallowed and dropped her eyes back to the picture, and the panic slowly dissolved into calmness. The message had been received and understood, and would hopefully remain unspoken. There was still no guilt, and Jane knew there wouldn't be. She had done what she needed to do to protect her family.

That was who she was.

* * *

_Seriously? Did all three of them not have 'I did it!" tattooed on their foreheads in that scene?_


End file.
